Best Stair Poems
The staircase leading from my heart to where-ever the wind blows,
Is growing even faster than the galaxy.
Im elevated so high the sun burns anywhere my skin shows.
Liars are masters of dodging reality.
Its a shrude crime to not let you know the truth,
A thousand ways to the same place is a good start.
I have absolutely all the answers provided no proof,
Regaining my minds freedom leaves me angry and tart.
Ive acquired a nasty taste in the back of my being,
I am a castle but the fixtures hang while the walls lack pictures,
So heavenly inspired i live life for today like I'm never leaving.
Meanwhile my mind forms movies that blend into endless mixtures.
I have an old soul that escapes out my eyes, mouth, and fingers,
The life you live sucks just as bad as mine, you just don't notice.
My vents spew , but hine-sight's 20/20 and the anger lingers.
I remain a lost lotus.
The Stair Case
It stood before me, curving and long and awfully high.
Steps that seemed to go on forever
long and winding and narrow.
Like a twisting path in life, the staircase stretched before me
It travels both ways, either up toward the light
or, down, into a deep and darkened world of unknowns.
The stairs of life are everywhere, for everyone
Each person has his own path to follow.
Faith is required to climb this narrow path of life.
Fear drives me down the stairs to the unknown
A ray of sunshine beckons me, as I climb upwards
always encouraging me to travel on toward the mystery
that awaits.
Fear, and gloom, pressure me, as I start down the staircase
pressuring me with uncertain and halting steps toward a
place of failing and saddened events.
In this life we call ours there are choices.
Choices of good, and bad, or brave or timid.
I choose; and the climb of life awaits
the light, or the dark.
Which way to go?
By faith! Or by fear!
Dedicated to my daughter, Mary Moriarty Branch
With the love of a Father, for one who means so much.
DUST UPON THE STAIR
My life careers on so fast, the years and people fly by to who knows where,
times I had have been the best so I'll remember them but forget the bad.
Isn’t that the way we live our lives? Always wanting to remember the good but not the bad.
My music still sounds the same, bringing haunting memories back that I thought had been lost forever. I think of them with a chill down my spine.
They’re like dust upon the stair, undisturbed except by a solitary footprint.
Whose is it? It isn’t mine, only the ghosts know, they glide through my mind in long forgotten memories taking me to a reverie almost undreamed of in my normal state of mind.
from my new book:
"Dark Delectable Delicious Destructive - Poems for Goths, Gangsters and Other Mysterious Souls": "20 Years of Nick Armbrister's Dark Poems"
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When night is dressed in darkest cloak and woe replaces gloom;
When all the children are asleep, each in their separate room,
Unsettled spirits will appear immured in murky mist.
No matter what you’ve ever heard, we seem to coexist.
There is a house inhabited beyond the owner’s fee,
For he can’t reap a rent from ghosts who dwell inside for free.
And meanwhile, tenants hear each noise as marbles cross the floor.
They witness lights snap on and off, the sound of slamming doors.
deBury mansion mystifies all those who call it home.
The ghastly ghosts that they perceive do rigorously roam.
So still inside the closet space till midnight charms the dark.
Then out among the living souls, these specters disembark.
Why do the dead delay their flight? Why do they terrify?
Where do they go in morning light when sunbeams rule the sky?
It’s said that there are hidden steps, now sealed behind a wall,
And rooms no one has ever seen with ceilings twelve feet tall.
When Count deBury passed away, what happened to his will?
Some say it’s still inside the house, not under daffodils.
There could be undetected gems beneath a floor’s loose board,
Some antique coins, or gold, or jewels, or other fortune stored.
Perhaps his ghost is guarding wealth that he would never spend.
His name and reputation all that’s left him in the end.
They say that one man’s tainted trash is to another riches.
Might make you take a second look at litter in the ditches.
The next time you pass by the house, pause briefly with a prayer
For Count and Countess deBury, the mist upon a stair.
You spent your whole life
walking up and down those steps
Sometimes the walk was less
when you lost a few rungs of horizontal wall elevation
More often the walk was more
when you puffed circular cigar smoke on papier spires
You always loved stacking the stairs,
accumulation of papyros was all that mattered to you
You never lost your papire seat
when the music stopped
at the end of playing musical chairs
Always wondering,
while you sat puffing cigars on a pile of papyrus,
just how high could the stack rise
Papier stair spires
got you climbing higher and higher
Accumulation of papyros
has got your pride elevating more and more
Papyrus printed packs
arranged neatly in green stacks
Elevating so steep off the floor
Paper stair stacks rising ever so high ...
strike a match to them when you die
This poem was inspired by the poem, “Roses and Revolutions,”
penned by the late great black poet, Dudley Randall (1901 - 2000)
When you see stair
You start pace at bottom
To go to the top.
Do stairs go up?
Or are they down?
Which way do they go?
It depends on where you start
If you really want to know!
If you start at the top, then down they go
But they would go up, if you start below
The most amazing thing about a staircase
Is all of the steps will take will bring you some place
It could be a porch on a castle.. or even the ceiling
But when using the stairs….Hold on to the railing!
Heel, breaking the plane;
Subtle distance unexpected -
Body charged numb
With fear of death,
Or perhaps the fear
Of not quite dying.
Clutching at items,
Clutching at nothing.
As your fists curl in
A whoop of breath
Escapes,
Sprawling,
Fallen,
Or saved
From a lower stair’s perspective.
its like fountain
on a heavenly mountain
there love everywhere
to get there
beware show love and care
to makes lives better
that's the
STAIR WAY TO HEAVEN
Stair to Heaven
A spiral stair comes in pieces.
About one thousand to be sure.
It is a very large box indeed,
and weighs about 400 pounds.
Do not tell the man accidentally;
to put it in the wrong place.
You will be sorry.
Pulled out and counted,
seven shades of black,
shiny and beautiful.
The entrance off the bedroom,
of a place called;
The Tree House.
It is a crazy home,
with five or maybe six different levels.
Few can say, and few have said.
All the many windows lookout,
on to the mesas of the high mountains,
the rolling hills in the distance,
and the wild desert there beyond.
Soon the circle will be complete,
minutes turned into hours,
turned into days,
but worth every one.
Walking out now from the door,
looking out onto historic yesterday,
a formal invitation is given.
Come, see the stars...
and call them by name.
Dance all night on the roof.
The coyotes will howl,
the party will go...
way past dawn.
I always start
twisting your mind
with the eloquence
of imagination,
causing fear
to mound up
like the scum
that collects
around a storm drain,
building up
on your mind,
making you not know
what to believe.
That branch
scratching on your window
in the night time breeze,
well that's not me,
but it's nice,
helping me set the mood.
Ah but those
dizzy spells
you've been having,
now that's me,
reaching
my incorporeal hand
into your skull,
tainting the liquid
surrounding your brain
with my
shadowy presence.
When you lay down at night,
all cozy and safe,
drifting off
into a deep slumber,
with that extension of me
swirling around
in your head,
dreams coelesing
into a deeper substance,
a feeling
of terror,
small and timid
at first,
starts bouncing around
in your heart,
feeling builds
to emotion
gradually strengthening,
stirring muscles,
bringing paranoia
into the picture,
before you know it
your running full tilt
and getting nowhere.
You know
something's there,
(me),
walking nonchalantly,
within the darkness
sucking in your soul,
like reeling
in a little fish,
having more fun
letting you run on the line
than actually
pulling you in.
we wer both drinking
and winking
our eyes would sink
and blink
we has this sex taste
so we made out
no doudt
had
SEX ON THE STAIR CASE
up by the window stair
the night owl screeches by
out in the opal night
stretching across the sky
up by the old tin roof
i hear the lady call
out in the darkest night
she bids me to fall
up by the paling moon
when the nightly death does spake
out in the cold cold night
the lady comes my soul to take
So on you go,
fleeing for your life,
heart trying
to leap out of your chest,
sweat
soaking you
to the bone
back in your bed,
and me
staying just out of sight
but sending
tremors of horror
through your body.
The aura
of fear
you're releasing
raises me
to a hungered state,
I lash out
with one clawed finger
ripping a ragged line
across your back and side.
You awaken,
bolting upright in bed
sticking to the sheets.
Realizing
it was a "dream"
you head
to the stairs
to get a drink,
I reach out
from the shadow
on the second stair from the top,
grabbing your right ankle
causing you
to crash down the stairs
braking
your left leg and arm.
Now
I pour out
of the darkness,
solidifying
in front of you,
if only
you had looked
in your bed
and seen the bloodstain
soaking into the bedding,
at least
you would have known,
not that you
could have done anything.
So now here we are,
you mangled on the floor,
me licking my lips
and staring into your eyes,
I lean in close
and bite off
your right cheek
just so you can
scream
that much louder.
Have you seen the darkness fall?
Or heard the warblers cry and call?
Have you tasted sadness and sorrow?
Have you felt the warmth of tomorrow?
Take my hand, I'll lead you there.
To this long ascending stair.
We'll climb forever, climb above it all.
Then we'll jump, but we will never fall.
Take a breath, dive into oceans deep.
Close your eyes, fall into eternal sleep.
Take my hand, I'll lead you there.
To this long ascending stair.
We'll climb forever, climb for truth and love.
We could fly high, fly high like a dove.
Close your eyes, listen to it all.
Hear the voices rise and fall.
Take my hand, I'll lead you there.
To this long ascending stair.
View the oceans, their glasslike reflections.
Take your time, cherrish your recollections.
We'll travel far, too far for some.
Spread your wings, try to become.
Take my hand, I'll lead you there...
To this long ascending stair...
Have you seen the darkness fall?
Or heard the warblers cry and call?
Have you tasted sadness and sorrow?
Have you felt the warmth of tomorrow?
Climb this stair...Let me lead you there...